Authors: Kristen Ashley
He turned into
her, sliding his hand along the silk at her waist.
She was wearing
one of the nightgowns he bought her the day before, a sexy, short,
revealing, grey-green silk that complimented her eyes. The clerk in
the exclusive boutique in London where he’d ordered the dressing
gowns and, on Monday, seven nightgowns, had done her job well. Cash
had told Moira to describe Abby’s appearance and have them send
nightgowns which would suit.
They didn’t
disappoint, sending Cash’s request by same-day courier as they did
with the dressing gowns, each one was perfect and Abby had loved
them. Not as much as cashmere but, she’d informed him, silk and
satin (“the
real
kind”) were close seconds.
The nightgowns
were an answer to Abby’s pyjamas which she’d unveiled Sunday night
after he’d forced her, and her cat, to move in with him. Although
he had to admit she looked cute in the striped, drawstring bottoms
and fitted t-shirt, Cash found later when they were in bed he
didn’t like the obstacles they presented.
Unlike getting
her presents, it was safe to say she hadn’t been pleased at his
demand to move in even though she didn’t utter a word. Cash had
felt actual physical pain at his effort not to laugh in the face of
Abby’s obvious struggle against her desire to argue.
However,
Simon’s full report, e-mailed to Cash while they were in Germany,
stated that Abby’s house was what, after close scrutiny of the
report, Cash considered a health hazard. It needed new wiring, new
plumbing, new appliances and new bathrooms. The carpeting was
frayed in places, making it easy to trip, especially if one
insisted on wearing high heels as Abby did, and needed to be
replaced.
The list went
on.
Simon had noted
that a good deal of work had already been done, the roof, windows,
chimneys and repairs to damp and dry rot. But there was still a
good deal left to do to make it, what Cash would deem,
habitable.
About five
seconds after the lights failed Saturday night, Abby, Cash decided,
was definitely not going to live there while he saw to restoring
it.
She was going
to live with him and therefore, likely, not return home for some
time.
On that
thought, he buried his face in her hair and fitted his body to the
length of hers, breathing in the scent of her.
Last Wednesday
Cash had discovered Abby’s secret.
She was not, as
she wished him to believe, an escort for hire.
She was,
instead, a woman who desperately needed money.
The day after
they had dinner with his uncle, he’d investigated this himself and
within hours put the pieces together.
Until he
transferred the money into her account, her balance was naught. She
was overdrawn and had substantial credit and loan debt. Her banking
history exposed enormous expenditures which were likely repairs on
her home. She’d had a job at one point but her salary was
unbelievably low and that regular deposit had stopped some time
ago. This indicated she’d lost her job and hadn’t had steady
employment for some time, although she’d taken intermittent
contract work.
Further
investigation uncovered the fact that she’d amassed considerable
debt in DC. It didn’t take close scrutiny to see that she should
have sold the house she shared with her husband and further she had
continued a lifestyle she could no longer afford on her salary
alone. This left her in relatively dire financial straits when she
left that life behind, which meant she was ill-prepared to absorb
the expenses she couldn’t know she’d face, from what he could tell,
upon arrival in the UK.
Why she sold
herself rather than some of the valuable pieces of furniture and
art in her home, Cash had no idea.
But he intended
to find out.
He felt her
nestle deeper into him in her sleep and he smiled into her
hair.
He enjoyed this
time, early in the mornings, before he woke her. This was when he
had her, when she was sleeping. He also knew he had her, all of
her, when he was fucking her.
The rest of the
time, she was on guard.
He’d had her
once, their first weekend together.
And he fully
intended to have that again.
Her being on
guard started the day of their fight and he hadn’t done himself any
favours by punishing her that evening. She’d forgiven him, this he
knew, but something had changed, that was clear.
She was trying
to hide this from him. What she didn’t know was there was a big
difference between Abby being Abby and Abby being the Abby she
wanted him to think she was.
There were
times when she came through. For example, when she hilariously
repacked her heels after he’d unpacked them; when she first laid
eyes on her Bavarian torte; when she panicked at the thought of him
entering her house when there was a possibility of intruders; and
when she’d received the nightgowns the day before.
But mostly she
maintained a cautious distance, erecting and consistently
fortifying walls that kept him out.
Cash intended
to break down those walls. He intended to force her to admit her
secrets. He intended to find out why she’d sold herself to him.
Lastly, he intended to have all of her again, no holding back.
And he didn’t
care how long it took.
His strategy
was to be patient until the time came when that was no longer
working. She was coming out more and more, fitting naturally into
his life, letting that guard down more frequently, and he was
carefully pressing this advantage.
He knew his end
game.
She would be
moving with him to Penmort. He would take care of her, giving her
the life he felt she should have. And he’d be certain to maintain
that life for her even after it was time for him move on.
He would, when
the time was right, explain all this to her.
But not before
she let him in.
Completely.
Or, of course,
if he lost patience.
His hand
smoothed over her, sliding up her nightgown then running down her
naked hip. She hadn’t replaced her underwear after he’d taken her
last night, demanding first that she stand beside the bed as he sat
on its edge, his hands moving over the silk of her gown, pulling it
up and then tugging down her panties until she stepped out of them.
He hadn’t removed her nightgown when he’d fucked her last night and
he wouldn’t do it now. He liked the sleek feel of the expensive
silk. It further aroused him that he’d given it to her.
His hand moved
over her belly, then down to the juncture between her legs and he
found her.
She woke
instantly, her soft, morning voice breathing his name.
At the sound
and its effect on his body, Cash curled his other arm around her
chest, holding her captive.
Then he
listened, his body slowly, exquisitely tightening in response as he
brought her to climax with his hand, all the while controlling her
as she alternately pressed into his hand and struggled against his
arm, trying to turn to him.
When he took
her to the edge, her head twisted and only then did he lift his own
to press his mouth against hers and absorb her moans.
But he wasn’t
finished.
While she still
trembled through her climax, he turned her to her back and kept at
her with his hands, mouth and tongue until he could take no more
and knew, from the urgency she was using her own hands, mouth and
tongue, that she couldn’t either.
Only then did
he enter her, his strokes fierce and uncontrolled, their mouths
attached, tongues duelling alternating with teeth biting at each
other’s lips. He knew he was close and it would be, as it always
was with Abby, magnificent.
He listened to
her sharp intake of breath. Her calf, with her thigh pressed into
his side, curled around his back, her other leg wrapped around his
thigh. He felt her convulse around him at the same instant his mind
erased and his world centred on nothing but their sweet, tight, wet
connection.
Then he
came.
It was moments
after, when Cash’s face was buried in her neck, his tongue tasting
her that his world opened but only to allow all of Abby back in,
her legs and arms tight around him, the feel of her breath against
his neck, the scent of her sex in his nostrils.
It was then his
life as he knew it shattered.
Because,
softly, huskily,
honestly
, she whispered, “It’s never been
this good.”
His body froze
even as he felt triumphant adrenalin shoot through him,
electrifying his whole system.
And under him,
he felt her body freeze too.
But it was for
an entirely different reason.
* * * * *
With body
frozen solid, Cash’s all-of-a-sudden still form wrapped tight in
her limbs, Abby listened to the stark silence in the dark room and
wondered if she’d just done what she thought she’d just done.
That was, utter
her true, supposed-to-be-buried-deep feelings out loud.
Cash’s head
came up and Abby’s tense body grew even tenser, so tense it felt
like it would splinter into a million pieces.
“What did you
say?” Cash asked, his burr rougher than normal and not, Abby
reckoned, because he’d just had an orgasm.
Yes, she had
indeed uttered her true, supposed-to-be-buried-deep feelings out
loud.
Her emotional
warrior threw up her hands in disgust.
Jumping
straight to damage control, Abby decided to play stupid, hoping it
would fool him since she
was
stupid. Beyond stupid.
Phenomenally
stupid.
“What?” she
asked.
Cash didn’t
hesitate before repeating, “What did you say?”
Abby stayed
with her stupid tactic. “Did I say something?”
There was
silence a moment then Cash’s hand came to the side of her face, his
thumb sliding along her bottom lip. When he spoke, his voice was
even rougher, so much rougher it was harsh, yet sweet and warm,
just like when he asked her forgiveness.
“Darling,” he
started slowly, “repeat what you just said.”
Abby decided
playing stupid wasn’t getting her anywhere so her next tactic would
be escape.
She tried to
move away but this didn’t work either because, firstly, Cash was
strong, secondly, he was heavy and thirdly, he was still inside
her.
So when his
whole body tensed around her, his hips bucked and she had to bite
her lip to hold back a whimper of pleasure.
When she
stilled, Cash spoke, “You’re not going anywhere, love, until you
talk to me.”
Fear started
seeping into her pores and Abby decided to try a different tactic.
“Don’t you need to get to work?”
There was
another moment of silence before he demanded again, “Talk to
me.”
Abby felt
desperation creeping in along with the fear and therefore lied, “I
don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Anything
that’s the truth,” he replied immediately. “For instance, what you
just said.”
“Cash, I don’t
know what you’re talking about,” Abby lied again and struggled
underneath him but he contained her struggles with minimal
effort.
When she
stopped struggling, he spoke. “You know what I’m talking
about.”
Her voice was
higher, but cooler, denoting her fear and burgeoning anger
(directed at her own stupid self) when she replied, “I don’t.”
“You do,” he
insisted.
“I don’t!” she
snapped and shoved at his shoulders but he only moved back an inch
and then pressed in again.
With what he
said next, Cash, Abby noted, also switched tactics.
“What do you
fear?” he asked, making it clear he knew exactly what Abby wasn’t
even allowing herself to understand.
Angry and now
panicked, Abby ordered, “Get off.”
“Tell me what
scares you,” Cash demanded.
“Get off!” she
shouted and struggled anew.
This time he
controlled her struggles not physically, but verbally.
“You said it’s
never been this good.”
At the reminder
of her words, Abby went still.
Deciding to run
the full gamut of personalities in the hopes of making him think
she was insane which, she told herself at that moment, would be a
good thing, she feigned confused innocence. “I did?”
“You did,” he
returned firmly and she knew he saw through her completely.
“Well, I’d just
–” she started to explain or, more honestly, lie but he cut her
off.
“No, don’t,” he
said and she felt his eyes remain on her briefly in the shadows
before his face went into her neck and he repeated on a whisper,
“Don’t.”
She closed her
eyes tight but he continued speaking and what he said next did what
she thought would happen earlier.
It splintered
her soul into a million pieces, in one fell swoop, taking all her
puny defences with it.
“I’ll wait,
darling. We have all the time in the world.”
At these words,
Abby’s mind erased.
As if someone
else was experiencing it, she felt his lips touch the hinge of her
jaw then his head came up. The heat of his eyes was on her and his
thumb stroked her cheekbone before his mouth touched hers softly
then he gently pulled out of her and exited the bed. He tugged the
covers over her and walked across the room.
She saw a
sliver of light come from the bathroom before the door shut.
Mind perfectly
blank, she took hold of his pillow, curled around it, pressing her
face to it and closing her eyes, willing herself into denial,
telling herself she’d forget, he’d forget, what just happened
didn’t happen, they’d move on from here.
Against her
will, Cash’s deep brogue floated through her consciousness.
We have all
the time in the world.
She closed her
eyes tighter and Cash’s scent came to her from his pillow as it did
every morning she curled into it after he left her. It wasn’t just
his cologne, it was the scent of his hair, his skin,
him
.